


can't kick up the roots

by esapastrnak



Category: Hockey RPF
Genre: Alternate Universe - Magic, CVS Pharmacy: a suspect retailer of magical paraphernalia, Curse Breaking, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-12-23
Updated: 2016-12-23
Packaged: 2018-09-11 15:51:54
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,522
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8997199
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/esapastrnak/pseuds/esapastrnak
Summary: The Joe is cursed and Dylan can't sleep.
Related, It's just past two am when he walks into the CVS.





	

**Author's Note:**

  * For [ohtempora](https://archiveofourown.org/users/ohtempora/gifts).



> Hi! I'm sorry this isn't.. ~more, but I hope you enjoy it anyways.
> 
> [This](http://kara-snow-el.tumblr.com/post/153713254076/me-walking-into-a-cvs-at-midnight-i-need-to-lift) was my inspiration.
> 
> Title is a [Neck Deep song](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=d6uIsM7s6pY) because it gives me all of the hometown boys feelings.

 

Dylan can’t sleep and The Joe is cursed.

These things are related.

Every time he closes his eyes, Dylan feels the buzzing under his skin. It itches. He showers and scrubs but the residual magic doesn’t budge.

The Red Wings lose four in a row at home.

The magic sensitive players bring it up with Blashill. He runs it up the flagpole. Holland brings in a curse breaker, but he’s no help. Apparently he can’t even feel the curse. It’s too tied up in hockey, in the playoff streak, in Detroit, the Joe Louis Arena itself. No outsider could ever hope to break it.

 

\--

 

It’s just past 2 am when Dylan walks into the CVS.  

The fluorescent lights give the store an eerie glow, and the shitty Top 40 radio station that’s being piped through the sound system is a weird soundtrack for this weird endeavor.

A bored employee is sitting behind the register painting her nails bright green. She doesn’t look up as he enters.

“Uh,” Dylan says, suddenly feeling very awkward and very foolish. “I need to lift a curse.”

“Aisle 5,” the girl says, still concentrating on her nails.

“Thanks.”

Dylan meanders over to Aisle 5 and is met with a wall of incense, gemstones, ritual guides and magazines, staff and wand polishes, synthetic _and_ organic chalks and paints, and even a selection of cauldrons. Among other things.

Maybe CVS isn’t the right place for this?

Dylan’s magic sensitive, yes, but he doesn’t really know how to _do_ magic, per se. It was never as important as hockey. He just… never got around to it.

“You need to break a curse?”

Dylan turns and sees a boy looking at him from the end of the aisle. He’s cute, Dylan can’t help but notice, standing there in a blue CVS vest, holding one of those price sticker guns. There’s a price sticker on his forehead. Sale. $5.49.

“Uh, yeah,” Dylan says, glancing back at the Wall of Various Magical Paraphernalia.

The boy walks closer. His nametag says Zach :). “You’re Dylan Larkin.”

“Uh, yeah,” Dylan says again. He blushes.

“I’m Zach,” the boy smiles. He comes to stand next to Dylan, looking at all of the magic products. “So what’s cursed?”

“The Joe.”

Zach raises his eyebrows. “Dude, no shit? Huh. I guess that makes sense.”

“Really?” Dylan asks, skeptical.

“The players the Red Wings have,” Zach says, looking straight at Dylan, “they don’t suck. It makes sense that something’s _making_ them suck.”

Zach’s eyes are dark and serious and Dylan likes looking at them, likes looking at _him_. He shakes himself. “So, uh, what should I get to break the curse?”

There’s suddenly a grocery bag in Zach’s hands when there wasn’t one before. Dylan doesn’t know where the price sticker gun went. “Sage, definitely,” Zach says, grabbing a few sticks and tossing them in the bag. “A few focusing stones. Bloodstone for purifying, agate for protection, hematite to stay grounded.” His hand hovers over a ritual guide. “Do you have a totem? How much do you know about magical rituals?”

“Not a lot,” Dylan shrugs. “Hockey was always more important than magic studies.”

Zach nods and slips the ritual guidebook into the shopping bag.

“Do you, uh, mind helping me break the curse?” Dylan asks. He doesn’t know why he asks. It’s kind of a spur of the moment thing. He can feel his flush deepening, but this also feels like the right thing to do. It’s 2 am in CVS and he’s gonna break a curse on Joe Louis Arena. It’s already a little surreal. Go big or go home.

“What, really?”

“Uh, yeah,” Dylan says. He rubs the back of his neck. “You don’t have to if you don’t want to. I know it’s a lot to ask.”

“Are you kidding?” Zach says, looking pretty excited. “This is the most exciting thing to happen to me in months. Of course.” He takes Dylan’s hand and tows him towards the front of the store. “Alex, I’m taking my ten,” he calls to the girl at the register as they motor passed.

“Okay,” she says, not looking up from her magazine.

 

\--

 

Dylan drives, and the closer they get to The Joe, the wider Zach’s eyes get.

“Shit, bro,” he whispers. “I can see the curse from here. That’s gnarly.”

“You can see the curse?”

“Well, yeah,” Zach says, looking confused. “Am I not supposed to?”

Dylan shrugs. “They brought in a professional curse breaker and he couldn’t feel it. Something to do with it being so tightly tied to the Red Wings.”

“You didn’t think I would be able to see the curse and you let me tag along anyway?” Zach smirks.

Dylan can feel himself blushing.

“I’ve loved the Red Wings my entire life,” Zach says softly. “Some of my best memories are here, at The Joe. I’m not really surprised I can see the curse.”

“Yeah, me neither,” Dylan murmurs. He’s getting that surreal feeling again, like déjà vu but not. He sneaks a glance at Zach to find him looking back, eyes dark and warm. Dylan swears he feels an actual literal spark between them.

It’s 2:37 am.

\--

Walking through Joe Louis Arena at close to three in the morning with a boy he just met and malcontent magic swirling around them is… disconcerting.

“She knows why we’re here,” Zach whispers, taking a step closer to Dylan. His eyes seem to track something even Dylan can’t see. Though to be fair, it’s fairly dark in The Joe at three in the morning. Dylan hasn’t even seen a security guard, but that’s probably for the best at the moment.

“What?”

“The Joe. She’s not happy.”

That makes Dylan stumble. “What?”

Zach keeps walking up the tunnel, stopping at the door to the ice. His gaze is up on the rafters. “It’s not a curse,” he says. “Not exactly.”

Dylan comes to stand beside him. “Then what is it?”

“Buildings have intrinsic magic, you know? Especially old buildings. Places with history. They can have… personality. The Joe knows that this is her last season, that they’re gonna tear her down. It’s warped her intrinsic magic and made it act like a curse,” Zach says. “She’s not ready to go.”

“Oh.” Dylan watches as Zach steps out onto the ice. He’s steady on his feet as he walks out to center ice, gaze still up in the rafters.

Zach opens the grocery bag and turns to look at Dylan. “You ready?”

“Yeah.” Dylan slowly makes his way to center ice as Zach pulls the stuff they got from CVS out of the bag: the sage, the gemstones, some chalk. He seems to reach deeper into the bag, his whole arm disappearing, and pulls out an incense holder shaped like a hockey stick. He sets it dead center of the center ice dot and situates the sage sticks on it. The gemstones are lined up below it.

Zach reaches back into the grocery bag and pulls out a puck. Dylan can see the winged wheel on its face. Zach holds it tenderly in his hands for a moment, before placing it below the gemstones. He lights the sage with a snap of his fingers and smoke begins to waft up towards the rafters.

“Is that it?” Dylan asks as Zach stands.

“Pretty much,” Zach says. “There isn’t like, chanting or anything. It’s mostly about intent. Now all we need is the blood sacrifice of a virgin.”

Dylan stares at him.

Zach smirks. “I’m just kidding. It needs a show of devotion.”

“A show of devotion?” Dylan scowls. “I’m here, aren’t I? Trying to do something about this curse-that-isn’t-actually-a-curse. Because I love this city and I love the Red Wings and I love Joe Louis Arena. What more does it want?”

Zach leans down and picks up the puck before stepping closer. He gives it to Dylan. “Focus on that feeling. It’s all about intent. The powers that be may have decided to leave The Joe, but that doesn’t mean the people will. The magic will live on, through them. Through you. Remind her of that.”

Dylan cradles the puck in his hands. He closes his eyes and takes a deep breath and—he can see it. The Joe’s magic, the real magic, untainted underneath the curse. He tries to draw it nearer to him, remembering and projecting his favorite memories of here, of Detroit hockey.

A tendril of the swirling magic reaches out and brushes the puck, and suddenly all Dylan can see is a vision of himself hoisting the Stanley Cup. He has a beard that isn’t pathetic, an A on his sweater. Zach is there, in a Red Wings jersey, crashing into him and holding on so tight. “You did it,” he says into Dylan’s neck. “I love you.”

The magic retreats and so does the vision and Dylan opens his eyes. Zach is so so close, those warm dark eyes trained on Dylan and suddenly, Dylan knows.

“A show of devotion,” he murmurs. Zach smiles, his eyes going soft, and he leans in.

A kiss.

**Author's Note:**

> god I hope it didn't suck.


End file.
